


Thursday Human

by Excavatrice



Category: True Blood (TV)
Genre: Blood Drinking, Human/Vampire Relationship, Other, Race, Slavery, Vampires, bad husbands, episode 71
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-10
Updated: 2019-07-10
Packaged: 2020-06-25 21:20:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,153
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19754026
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Excavatrice/pseuds/Excavatrice
Summary: You come to the gathering (episode 71) and hope you can be protected by the Southern gentleman Mr. Compton.Instead you find me, the slave of your ancestors.





	Thursday Human

Your heart is beating fast. I am not the vampire you hoped for. You look in Mr. Compton's direction. He is at another table with his prodigy and his favorite human and his court of underlings and associates. Compton's a Southern gentleman, right? You can forget he is a fanged bloodsucker. Not like me. I am a perfect storm of your fears. The Man. The Black Man. The Vampire. The Boogeyman. But you greet me, and you remember my name and pronounce it right.  
"Mr. Beaunuit, happy to make your acquaintance." Your words stumble slightly.  
Of course, you know who I am. This is a little town, and everybody knows I stay under the empty house in Alleyfin during the days. Except, of course, that I don't.  
And I know who you are. I have bred your family for centuries. I like your smell.  
I saw glimpses of you when you were a little girl.  
"Come in now, little miss, don't you stay out when night falls," your Mami yelled. I tasted Mami too. Not my type, and I glamoured the incident away from her mind. But somehow the fear stayed with her, and she guarded her pale foster child against the dark and me like a hen mother. We were related by blood. Her grand, grand, grandmother was my mother and toiled at the Beaunuit Plantation. The 1927 Flood erased both the plantation and the memories of it.  
You grew up, you married; not to the first love, he was not worthy, and I made him disappear. You had children, one is tasty, two only carriers. Husband died in a plane crash. Now you are alone. A pretty and early worn widow with sad eyes.  
The Hep V sick vampires plundered the blood bank at the hospital. You have volunteered blood there recently. It angers me, that someone else drank your blood. You are mine. You have always been mine. I own you like your ancestors owned my ancestors. You will be paying your blood debt back forever. But I like you and I would like your consent, so I woo you, the old fashioned human way.  
Had it not been for the hepatitis V you would not be offering your self like this. My anger subsides. I tell you, how old and strong I am. That I can protect you. And your children. And your cousins and other relatives too. This has always been the deal. I have shooed other vampires away from your family in two hundred years. I don't tell you that. But the other vampires know it. Mr. Compton knows it. When one of the younger, spoiled, white vampires comes near my family, I just look in their direction and mime: "Mine!" Then they retreat swiftly like I am a ray of sudden sunlight.  
I tell you, that I only need to feed on you Thursday evenings. I have a blood harem of your cousins, one for each day in the week to feed of. You will be my Thursday human because you are my favorite among your family. I will give each bite I take of you to Amadi Oha, the thunder god and make Him a new altar.  
You don't know how to answer that. I caress your hand, and now you suddenly realize, that I have held your hand all the time we have been talking. You suppress the urge to retract it.  
The man you married was not the nice man he seemed to be for others. But he held other men away. You wore his ring like armor when you sneaked out to party. You were having desperate fun, knowing the price that was to be paid later. Now you don't have to ask for permission to attend a shindig. But you have lost the urge to go. You are here now because you must. You don't know that I would never let the Hep V's eat you. Because you don't know our agreement. You don't know how I glamoured your husband to the edge many times to treat you better. I regretted pushing for your union. He had a faulty character, I couldn't change him. I did the second best thing, and made him disappear too in a "plane crash".  
You are here determined to let another person monopolize you because the alternative is worse. Man, vampire, what's the difference? The real difference is between those who have power and those who must find a way to survive without power.  
I can feel your drumming heart in the veins under the skin. I kiss your hand, and deliberately I scratch the tiniest little hole in the skin with my fang and lick the drop of blood with my tongue, no sucking. You shiver. You have the taste I have been breeding you for. My internal shivering does not show.  
Humans and vampires around us have begun sharing blood. Some are kissing, some are taking their clothes off, some are retracting into the darkness and some couldn't care less of warm light from the multi-colored lanterns and the company of others. The air is filled with human love feromones and vampire glamouring. I want to fuck you and suck you, but not here, not now.  
"Let's wait until Thursday with the feeding," I say. "You volunteered blood two days ago, right?"  
"Yes," you say, breathless, disappointed.  
"You seem a bit pale after the donation. I will not take that much when Thursday comes. Au contraire, I will give you a little of my blood now, to make you feel better, and seal our agreement. Do you want that?"  
"Yes," you whisper.  
I unbutton my shirt. I could bite my wrist, but I want you close to me when we make our deal officially. I take a crab fork and add a scratch to my many, century-old scars on my chest. The scars come from the time when I was the weak one. This new scratch will not last long enough to form a scar, though I wouldn't mind it, not this time.  
First, you hesitate, then you understand and put your lips to my chest. Your lips tickle me. And arouses me. I hold you tighter. I gasp like a human. Your hands find the way to my rough back, where they follow the ridges and welts from the whip. I stiffen, but you caress my back eagerly. You have taken my blood now. I can sense your feelings and I don't receive the expected disgust from you. Only lust and curiosity.  
My hands are in your hair. You suck my blood from the scratch. It is closing now, and you continue to lick the skin on my chest until I gently push you away.  
Your gaze is dazed. Your color is rosy now, not sickly greenish.  
I say: "Thursday then."  
"Yes, Thursday," you affirm.  
I walk you home. My sweet Thursday human.


End file.
